Hope
by DonutPotter
Summary: Only a oneshot. Just an ending I would have preferred to Doomsday. I'm not sure if you would like it, but I wrote it anyway. Reedited version.


I don't own anything.

Something that popped into my head since I hated how Rose left. It was awful! Hope you like it! Just a one off. Sorry.

She was standing at the coordinates he had said. She had to see him. He would be there. He had to be.

It was a blustery, cold day on that beach. Somewhere in Norway she knew, but she hadn't been paying much attention as to where exactly, she had been so fraught. Darlig-something or other. She hoped beyond hope he would be there.

Her dad was there. Her dad! With her mother. She had never seen her mum so happy. And there was Mickey as well. She hadn't thought she would see him again, but it had happened, because of the void. That stupid void that had taken her Doctor. She let another sob, dry and bitter, no tears for she had spent them all already.

There was something she needed to tell the Doctor. They had been apart one month already, and he needed to know.

Then in front of her appeared a ghost doctor. She cried and they had had a stumbled conversation in which he became normal looking but was still a hologram. She cried harder.

Finally she summoned the courage. She glanced over her shoulder and said, "There's five of us now. Me, dad, mum, Mickey and the baby."

The Doctor looked at her in shock. His eyes darted to her stomach for a fraction of a second, and he said, sounding stunned "Are you…?"

She burst into noisy, throat drying tears.

"They haven't noticed yet, I'm only a month gone. Mum thinks I'm sick from grief. I couldn't bear to tell them!" she managed to choke out.

"Mine?" he whispered.

"Of course it's yours!" she shouted, her old fire reappearing. "Who do you think I am!"

The Doctor stumbled a bit in shock. There was going to be…a child? How was it even possible? Well he knew how, but…what was he going to do? He couldn't leave Rose alone, that was for sure. He knew she wasn't lying.

Rose felt her heart break even more as she saw tears fall down the Doctor's face. He hurt just as much. She knew it was a mistake getting so close. She should have taken Sarah-Jane's warning to heart.

The Doctor reached out to her and even though it was futile her own hand reached out too, as though they could hold hands again. Just as they connected something happened. There was a whirring sound, which sounded a bit like the Tardis, but different, and that was so loud the others could hear it. They began to run over.

"What's happening?" yelled Rose over the noise.

The Doctor, his voice full of disbelief, said, "I think the Tardis is somehow pulling you through. You're…you're coming with me!"

He then looked at his hand and realised he was holding Rose's, and that it was solid. He pulled her into his arms, and they held each other tight, as though they never wanted to let go. He whispered, "I love you" into her hair and she held him tighter.

They both heard a voice saying, " What's going on?". It was Pete.

The Doctor looked up and Rose turned her head, but both clung to the other still.

"Rose is coming with me now. I'm sorry. Say goodbye." Replied the Doctor, strangely happy and sad at the same time.

The three gaped until Jackie said, " You can't do that! She's here now!"

"Yeah!" said Mickey. " You can't keep messing with people like this! You'll leave her eventually and then who'll she turn to?"

They looked scared and sad and furious, the Doctor didn't know what to say. Luckily, Rose pulled through, like she always did.

"It's not his fault" she said, tears of happiness and sadness running down her face. "The whole universe conspired against us." She let out a short laugh. "But I'm happy, mum, dad, Mickey, I'm happy. We'll always be happy. We'll always be together. I know that now. You're going to be happy too. Promise! I love you…"

And with those last words, Rose Tyler and the Doctor faded away leaving that dimension forever, to go onto new adventures, and a new life, and their new child.


End file.
